Giddy Up
by Tall Blonde and Eyebrows
Summary: Kendall thinks it must be the fourth of July 'cause he's definitely seeing fireworks. Kames.


Kendall has to stifle a groan as he flexes his biceps up to lift the twenty-five pound dumbbell up to his chest. He does, however, let out a relieved sigh when he drops it down again, letting it clatter to the matt-covered floor. He thinks in the back of his mind as he glances down at the stupid weight mocking him from the ground that he should work out more because it's really sad how quickly he gets tired, but then he remembers he _is_ working out.

And working out sucks.

Hard.

How James does it everyday for hours a day is beyond the blonde. Like literally, because the brunette is actually in front of him, bench pressing what seems to be at least a hundred barely even breaking a sweat. He probably still smells as sweet as a daisy.

On the other hand, Kendall could probably use a shower… or a couple hundred, just to be safe. And maybe even some of James' special Cuda man spray. Yeah, it's _that_ bad.

In annoyance, Kendall actually lets out that groan, pulling his sweaty shirt away from his wet body. "James!" he calls to the muscular boy, "you really do this _every_day? This is horrible!"

There's this noise from James' corner of the room, something between a snort and a laugh, as he sets the weight easily back on the shelf. "Dude, it's only been ten minutes."

"Hey!" Kendall immediately defends himself, pointing an outranged finger at the taller boy. He is not weak and he sure as hell isn't going to sit by and let that stupid pretty boy insult his manliness! "It's been _fifteen_ minutes!"

Those five extra minutes really make a world of difference.

James should know that. Being perfectly honestly, it probably takes James five minutes to get into the pants of any beach babes or buff dudes or the planter of any pretty palm trees. (And that's on a bad day.)

So the fact that James is totally ignoring those five minutes? Preposterous. Kendall is completely offended.

And James can tell, so as an apology, he offers a bright grin in the blonde's direction. Or maybe it's a mocking smirk. Kendall can't really tell because he's dying on the floor a couple feet away; working out _so_ not his thing.

"You're right," James amends airily with a roll of hazel irises, "_Fifteen_ minutes. How could I forget?"

That brings a triumphant smile to Kendall's flushed face because he won and the blonde really likes winning. Turns out detecting sarcasm isn't one of his things either. "Thank you," he says sweetly, still sporting that dimpled smile.

"You're welcome. Now pick the weight back up, blondie. Let's see if you can go for twenty minutes, hm?" James lays back down on the bench and starts pumping the hundred pounds again.

Kendall glances down at the stupid weight (that's _still_ mocking him; pfft, he'd like to see it try to lift itself for ten reps) and then back to James. "…Um, you know, it probably isn't safe for you to be lifting without a spotter."

There's another snort-like sound from the pretty boy's direction, but Kendall continues happily without missing a beat, "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you got hurt, Jamie. I'll help!"

Then Kendall scrambles over to where James is, now all full of energy and spirit, grinning largely. This, letting James do all the work and just standing behind him where the blonde can get a real good look at all those glistening muscles as they tighten, _is_ one of Kendall's things.

It's really the only reason Kendall goes to the gym at all.

And James pretty much knows it. Because every time Kendall's his "spotter," he works a little bit harder, flexing a little more than necessary, and makes sure to give the blonde frequent sexy bedroom looks. He's hoping the show will get Kendall to just finally spit out that he likes James or, at least, do _something_. Anything, really.

James is not good at waiting.

He can wait a total of five minutes for his breakfast pancakes (seven if Mrs. Knight is cooking; she's fucking scary when anyone forgets their manners) or new Cuda products, but after that, no. James has got the attention span of a goldfish—a retarded goldfish—so it's a pretty spectacular feat that he's managed to wait this long for the blonde.

It's been like a _month_.

Yeah.

James, at this point, is tired of waiting. So this time when Kendall rushes behind him to be his spotter instead of all the subtle gestures and winks, he just stares straight into the blonde's green eyes and asks, "Want to fuck?"

And Kendall says, "Yeah," because it's not like he's doing anything else. And there's nothing good on T.V. and hey, he's a hormonal teenage boy. He has _needs_. Like the need to let James fuck him into next week.

It has nothing to do with the fact that Kendall may or may not be in love with the pretty boy. Not because James may or may not be the most beautiful thing his green eyes have ever seen or may or may not be the nicest, self-absorbed man he's ever met or because the brunette might make this really cute face when he's sleeping with his mouth open and a bit of drool slipping through his lips.

That face definitely does _not_ have Kendall running into the bathroom to jack off.

Besides, all that stuff is just speculation.

But Kendall will admit that as soon as the work fuck left James' mouth, it went straight to his dick, and rapidly, the organ is standing at full mast and creating a not too subtle bump in his sweats. And that works for them; it's all good.

Both boys are tired of subtlety.

Which is why Kendall promptly crawls on top of James as the tanned boy hangs up his weight and wastes no time to seal their lips together in a hot kiss and slams his hips down to James', moaning into the pretty boy's mouth at the friction it causes. James responds by sliding his lips sensually against his own and using his tongue to run along the roof of his mouth.

He's totally just doing it to be a bastard.

He probably thinks he can kiss better than Kendall.

And even if he's right, Kendall won't stand for it! So he pulls away from James' soft lips to show just how good a kisser he can be, attaching his mouth to the side of James' neck and trailing back up.

He's vaguely aware, while he's spending his time littering James' face and jaw with kisses and gentle nips, of James giggling into his ear. "Eager?" the brunette whispers, snaking a hand between them to cup Kendall's erection.

Kendall wants to scoff and say no because he doesn't want to give James the satisfaction, but he's kind of too busy moaning loudly and shamelessly grinding into James' warm hard. But that doesn't mean yes, okay? It doesn't mean Kendall's just about to come in his pants.

It just means James better start fucking him.

"_James!_" he finally yells in desperation. "Get on with it!"

Said brunette is laughing now, grinning as if he's won the lottery, and nods his head. "Fine," he teases, "I just wanted to see if you could last five minutes."

_Ooh, irony_, Kendall thinks, narrowing his eyes in defeat. Or maybe it's alliteration. Or foil. Or—fuck! Suddenly, Kendall's mind is blank when James pulls down both his boxers and sweats and quickly wraps a hand around the sensitive flesh. It's probably better this way, anyway.

Thinking about English during sex so isn't cool.

He doesn't want to be like Logan who screams out logarithms when he and Carlos are getting it on.

James smiles as Kendall bucks into his hand, trailing three slippery fingers down his sweaty body to Kendall's entrance and letting two pass through the tight ring of muscle. As he scissors his fingers and pushes them in and out, Kendall's groaning and thrusting back, almost shrieking in pleasure when James' finger hits that special spot.

Kendall thinks it must be the fourth of July 'cause he's definitely seeing fireworks.

That's the cue James takes to add another finger, quickly finishing stretching Kendall's passage. "Whoa, whoa, giddy up, cowboy," James taunts at the blonde's red face and how he's still basically fucking himself on James' fingers.

Kendall opens one green eye to glare down at him. "Say that again and I won't ride you," he threatens darkly.

That glare instantly turns into a smirk when James clamps his mouth shut.

Serves him right.

Sexy bastard.

But James _did_ shut his fucking pretty mouth, so Kendall decides to reward him by dragging James' old sweats and briefs down—the pretty boy helping by raising his hips—all the way to his feet, letting the brunette kick it off the rest of the way.

Kendall would've spent a minute or two inspecting James' cock or maybe even let himself taste the beads of pre-cum dripping from the slit, but, honestly, he's really horny. And if the way James is whining beneath him is any indentation, so is he. Waiting time is over. So the blonde raises himself up, his palms against James' abs for support, and impales himself on his cock.

And _oh_, Kendall's made the right decision; James is groaning and so is he and then they're moving together as if their lives depend on it.

Which is possibly true.

"Oh, Ken_dall_! Mmm, so f-fucking good… yes!" James yells as Kendall bounces in his lap. The warmth around his anatomy is wonderful and the view? Heavenly. From where he's lying, Kendall looks like some sort of godsend with the florescent lights shining above him and blonde hair matted to his forehead and his mouth falling into a gasp every time the tip of his dick hits Kendall's prostate directly.

He's James' blonde angel.

His very horny blonde angel.

That's James' favorite kind.

As Kendall grinds down on James' cock, he leans down and moans into the pretty boy's ear, "Anyone could catch us right now, Jamie… anyone could come in here and see your hard cock disappearing in and out of my ass. Does that turn you on?"

Kendall punctuates his sentence with harder grinding, higher bouncing, and a very loud, pleasured scream that kind of sounds like the brunette's name when James' nails dig into the supple globes of his ass, coming all over himself and James' chest.

James punctuates it with releasing string after string of hot liquid, filling Kendall up until his cum is leaking out and dripping down his softening cock.

"Ugh, James," Kendall mumbles exhaustedly, not even having the strength to lift himself once more to take James' dick out.

When Kendall collapses on top of him, James winds his arms around his torso, nuzzling his nose into Kendall's shaggy head and laughing quietly. "If you're that tired already, you really should be working out," James mocks with a grin.

"Say that again and no sex for a week."

This time Kendall's the one giggling quietly as James quickly seals his lips shut.

* * *

><p>The next morning when Kendall wakes up, ignoring the dull thudding of his backside at every single step, he walks over to his dresses to get out another pair of sweats and a clean wife-beater for another round of working out with James.<p>

At the thought of the pretty boy, he glances over to the boy's bed to find he's already gone. On top of his bed, though, is a brown western styled hat with an orange sticky note reading Kendall's name attached.

_Ride 'em, cowboy! ;) _

"JAMES!"

* * *

><p>Let's consider this my one shot for the fourth of July, okay? :) …Even though it had nothing to do with independence or really, anything summery or the fourth of July-ish. At least it had sweaty, sexy boys getting it on, right? Also, what's weird is that I'm actually a lover of sexy, dominant, take-charge Kendall, but, yet, I seem to write him taking it more than not… Oh, Schmidt. Anyway. Happy Freedom Day!<p> 


End file.
